


hold me through the night, until a new dawn rouses us

by gohoubi



Series: soft melaudrey fics [5]
Category: Snowpiercer (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Character Study, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Melanie needs a hug, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29917830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gohoubi/pseuds/gohoubi
Summary: Audrey saves Melanie from herself.
Relationships: Miss Audrey/Melanie Cavill
Series: soft melaudrey fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128500
Kudos: 14





	hold me through the night, until a new dawn rouses us

**Author's Note:**

> This was legitimately an idea I had REALLY late one night when I was working on the 'in this calm sea' fic. I wrote it in two days! It was just a burning idea, y'all. I'm happy with it. I really like this one. I think I really got the characterisation down.

It starts innocently enough.

Melanie wakes up with a blocked nose, and the beginning of a fever. Audrey tries to tell her to take the day off, but she won’t hear of it. “I’m the head of hospitality. There’s no such thing as days off.” Audrey wants to argue with this, but knows there’s no point. Melanie will go to work, illness be damned. Audrey sends her off with a kiss and a promise to be here when she comes back. 

Melanie returns later that night, and her condition—and mental state, Audrey thinks ruefully—has deteriorated. She’s stressed and irritable, pushing Audrey away when she tries to check how high the fever is. She’s coughing too, in addition to everything else. Audrey hopes that she might be able to convince Melanie to shirk her responsibilities for the rest of the day, but any attempt to do this is met with hostility, so she doesn’t. Melanie spends most of the night in the engine doing her engineer duties, then a few more hours in the bunkroom doing hospitality work. It is one in the morning before Audrey can convince her to come to bed—Melanie seems perfectly content to work herself to death. Her desk is covered in stacks of paper and clipboards; Hospitality work that Audrey could only guess at. “Come to bed, or I’ll drag you there myself.”

“No. I have to do this, I’m already behind. I can’t not do it, Audrey.”

“What is it that you’re working on?” Audrey strides over to the desk, picks up one of the papers. “The casino…are you serious? You’re running yourself into the ground for this?”

“Audrey—”

“This isn’t the engine we’re talking about—”

“Stop.” Melanie clenches the pen in her fist, takes a breath. “If I don’t do it, nobody else will,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. She sounds so defeated that Audrey feels her heart split in two. “Nobody will help me. I have to get this done.”

Audrey wants to scream at dead Wilford, the train, the whole goddamn world for shouldering Melanie with this burden, but doesn’t. Instead she says, “Listen to me. You are coming to bed, now. Hey, I haven’t finished. Tomorrow morning, I will help you sort all this out. Okay? I’ll help you get all this done, I promise. But you can’t do anything about it now. Melanie, baby, look at me”—Audrey takes the other woman’s face in her hands, stares her dead in the eye—“Your body is ready to give up on you. You’re roasting and you can barely stay awake. Your body is waving the biggest flag in existence that it needs to rest.” Audrey sighs, bites her lip. “I promise, I’ll help you tomorrow. We’ll fix everything, together, but you have to rest. Please.”

Melanie nods almost imperceptibly. “Okay,” Audrey says. “Alright. Okay. Do you need help?” Melanie shakes her head. “I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the bathroom.” Audrey makes her way into the other room, keeping one eye on the open door. When she’s done, Audrey comes out and gets under the covers. Melanie joins her, resolutely not making eye contact.

“Mel—”

“Don’t,” Melanie says weakly. “Just don’t.”

“Alright. Alright.” Audrey says nothing more. Melanie takes a long time to calm down and fall asleep, but eventually the sobs subside and her breathing evens out. Audrey imagines all the terror and exhaustion running through Melanie’s head—even now that she’s asleep, Melanie’s whole body is taut with stress. Audrey wonders if the other woman’s ever been able to relax since they got on the train. Probably not, judging by all the work she had to do. There’s nothing Audrey can do about it anyway. She’ll just have to figure something out when they both wake up again.

* * *

Audrey is awoken late at night by Melanie coughing harshly. She’s trying to suppress it, but failing; they are practically on top of each other, and Audrey can feel every movement shaking the bunk. Audrey rubs Melanie’s back, and then her chest until she manages to catch her breath. “That sounds really bad,” Audrey says gently.

“I fucking know,” Melanie mutters, but there’s no ire to it, just tiredness. “I get it.”

Audrey wants to rise to the bait, but Melanie sounds so miserable. In addition to the hoarseness in her voice, there’s also the sniffling, and the strained quality to her breathing. Audrey strokes Melanie’s hair gently. “God, I feel like shit,” she eventually whispers, her voice cracking.

“Come here, then,” Audrey says gently. “Shuffle back. I’m right behind you.” She’s pressed right up against the back wall of the bunk, but she’s loathe to complain about it now. Audrey gathers the other woman into her arms. Melanie snuggles into her warmth, clearly desperate for any kind of contact. Some of the tension seems to drain from her body, which Audrey is glad for. She pulls the blankets over them both, presses a kiss to Melanie’s sweaty hair. Audrey hopes it’s enough, enough that she could forget about her stresses and responsibilities for a little while. Enough that the jagged edges of her illness and emotions could be dulled for tonight. Melanie whines a little, shifting in Audrey’s arms.

“What’s the matter?”

“Head hurts. Everything hurts.” Melanie curses under her breath. “Of all the days to get sick.”

“Do you have any medication?”

“No, of course not. I’d have to go to the medical car for that. I can’t risk the doctors seeing me.”

Audrey’s heart twinges, at the thought of Melanie forging through this with not even an ibuprofen. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s just how it is.” Melanie says tiredly, closing her eyes again. “You don’t have to do any of this,” she says after a long silence.

Audrey doesn’t wait for her to finish. “Don’t even start, Melanie Cavill.”

“I mean it,” she says more forcefully. “Just because”—she breaks off to sneeze onto Audrey’s shoulder—“just because I’m sick. You don’t have to stay with me, or anything. I know I’m keeping you up.”

“I’d much rather be here. I’d much rather help you.”

“I don’t need help. I was doing fine before you came—” Melanie chokes on the last word and starts coughing again, violently enough that Audrey has to help her to a sitting position. Audrey holds Melanie as the spasm progresses, then even tighter still when it ends. In the light from the bunk window, Melanie looks utterly wrecked. She’s shivering, but her fever is higher than before. The heat scares Audrey, and she’s already leaning over Melanie to reach the thermometer. “I’m taking your temperature.”

“No,” Melanie whines, but she sounds desperate now. “It’ll be terrible, I know it will. I don’t wanna know. I don’t want to see it.”

Audrey bites her lip. She won’t get anywhere that way. “How about a bath, then? A lukewarm one? That fever needs to come down now, Melanie.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it myself.”

“Absolutely not. I’m helping you, and that’s that. Come on.” 

Luckily the bathroom isn’t too dark; there’s a window in there that lets in the light of the moon. The bathroom smells just like the bunk room beyond it; of Melanie. She sits down on the closed toilet while Audrey runs the water. It’s tepid at best, like all water on the train. When Melanie undresses for the second time, she has to go slowly, shying away from the pain. Once she’s done, she reluctantly lets herself be helped into the bath. Melanie hisses when she gets fully into the water. “You call this lukewarm?”

“Hey, you need it.” There’s no noise in the bathroom, except for the lapping water and Melanie’s laboured breathing. “I know it’s hard, but try to relax. You’re with me. Nobody else will see you. You’re safe.” Audrey sits down next to the bath. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Melanie nods, but doesn’t look entirely convinced. Now that she’s naked, she looks even smaller, and more fragile. Audrey wishes she could turn back time, back to before the Freeze and the train and Wilford got their sharp claws into Melanie Cavill.

“Audrey,” Melanie says haltingly, “tell me something good. Anything.”

What on earth could Audrey say to that? Her mind’s been consumed with the Nightcar, her Third Class friends, the perennial shortage of food, death and scarcity. She hasn’t had any time to think about ‘good’ things in months. She tries to cast her mind back, to pre-Freeze times, when life wasn’t so desperate and hardscrabble.

“One time, before the Freeze, I went to Hawaii on vacation with a girlfriend…” Audrey tells the whole story, of bar nights and early mornings spent on the beach and days spent sightseeing and climbing mountains, fully able to go anywhere and do anything without fear of cold. Melanie isn’t the most attentive audience, but maybe she just likes hearing Audrey’s voice. She doesn’t know how late—or early—it is. Time feels like a thick soup hanging around them. In addition to that is the smell of engine oil, and just underneath that, the scent of Melanie. The noise of the water is hypnotic; it feels like they are alone in the universe.

“Melanie, if you don’t get better in a few days, you might have to go see the doctor—“

“I can’t let people see me like this, Audrey. It’s too dangerous.” Audrey might have argued, but she saw Melanie’s point; the train was a powder keg ready to explode at any moment. Seeing their leader’s weakness might send them over the edge. “I can’t go. I won’t go.”

“Alright, baby. I won’t force you.”

Melanie trembles violently in the tub. “It’s too cold now. I want out.”

“Alright.” Audrey says, helping Melanie step out of the tub. “You know, you might be the most argumentative, stubborn, _reckless_ person I’ve ever met in my life, but I love you anyway. And I’ll always help you. No matter how much you try and tell me not to.” Audrey hands her a towel, and Melanie wraps it around herself. She’s quiet and listless, practically unconscious on her feet. Audrey leads her back to bed, helps her under the covers. They snuggle up together like before, but Melanie seems a little more relaxed this time. “It’s been so long since someone did this for me,” she says vaguely.

“I wish you didn’t have to go through this on your own.” In the darkness, Audrey can’t see Melanie’s face properly. Probably a good thing. “It kills me that you think you can’t ask for help. I want to help. Not everyone on this train is out to get you.”

“It’s hard to ask for help on this train. Someone’s always looking for a way to profit from it.” Audrey remembers something Clay told her: _on_ Snowpiercer _, you either benefit or you don’t. All the emotions we used to feel don’t exist. Nobody does things out of love or care anymore. If there’s not something in it for them, they won’t do it._ Melanie continues, “Someone will use it as a way to lever me off my pinnacle. I’m hated enough. Any weakness would give everyone the excuse they need to throw me off the train for good.”

“You’re holding us together,” Audrey says, too horrified by that statement to say much else. She holds Melanie even tighter. _I’ll never let you go._

“They don’t see it that way,” Melanie says resignedly. She coughs a couple of times, then whispers, “I didn’t ask to be here.”

“Nobody did.”

“I didn’t sign up for this. For hospitality, for running _Snowpiercer_. I was just going to be the head engineer. Then I got backed into a corner without Wilford on the train, and now I don’t have any way out of this. I wish the train would derail, fall off a cliff into a ravine. I’d die there, frozen in the ice, and everything would be over. Audrey, I feel like I’m dying inside. And not just because I have a cold.” Melanie’s whole body begins to shake, and then she’s crying again. When Audrey gathers her up, she comes willingly this time. Melanie buries her face in Audrey’s shoulder and cries. Audrey feels as if her heart will crack open. All she can do is hold onto Melanie and her hot, squirming distress, and hope she can keep it all together. When Melanie starts gasping, Audrey rubs her back and tells her to breathe. It takes a long time, but eventually she calms down. Audrey cannot imagine how terrible she must feel—Melanie must have a baller of a headache, and the crying would have only made it worse.

“Are you sure that you don’t want any medication?”

“No,” Melanie croaks, closing her eyes against Audrey. “I just want to sleep.”

Audrey knows it’ll be hard for her to sleep when she’s this sick, but Melanie seems intent on doing it anyway. After ten minutes, she’s passed out—breathing a little more evenly. Audrey feels relief—relief that Melanie is finally asleep and not in any more distress. She covers them both with the blankets again, and realises that she’s tired too. Melanie is warm against her and the bunk is comfortable. Audrey closes her eyes and lets sleep take her once again.

* * *

The next morning Audrey wakes up to a weak sun straggling over dark grey clouds. Melanie is lying on her back next to her, breathing erratically. Audrey's heart skitters in anxiety; something’s off, something’s worse. Now that Melanie’s asleep, Audrey can fish out the thermometer from under the drawer. She strokes Melanie’s cheek lightly to wake her up. Melanie stirs woozily, her eyes shiny and luminous. “Open up,” Audrey commands gently, and she does so. The fact that Melanie doesn’t protest is even more alarming. When the thermometer beeps, Audrey takes it back and reads the number. “Jesus, Melanie, it’s 39. You need a doctor. And medication. Please. There’s got to be at least one person you trust down there that’s not me. I don’t care who it is, but you need help I can’t provide.”

Melanie lies there for a few seconds in silence, clearly weighing her options. “Okay,” she concedes eventually, and Audrey feels a warm rush of relief. “But I make the call. Alone.” Audrey nods. Melanie throws off the covers, walks unsteadily to the phone on the other side of the room. Even this tiny exertion makes her cough, desperate and wracking. Audrey goes to her immediately, holds her up so she doesn’t fall. The coughing leaves Melanie breathless, and it takes all of Audrey’s self-control not to make the call herself. Melanie leans against the wall, shakily punches in some unknown number. At her glare, Audrey goes to the hallway and shuts the door. Out here the train is louder; she can’t hear much from the other room. Occasional sneezes, the buzzing of someone talking. After a while, Melanie opens the door, and nearly flops into Audrey’s arms. Now that she’s allowed to feel exhausted, she seems to be leaning into it hard. Audrey half-carries Melanie back to bed. Now that it’s light outside, Melanie’s condition is far more obvious: she’s white-faced, trembling, and of course, burning hot. She allows herself to be covered with the blankets. “I didn’t call the doctors,” she says hoarsely. “A friend, from Second Class.”

“Will she be able to help you?” Audrey asks, stroking Melanie’s hair.

“Yeah, she will. This isn’t the first time,” Melanie whispers, then she’s asleep again. Audrey takes her hand, for lack of anything else to do. Audrey assumes that this mystery person won’t be taking the subtrain, but they show up not ten minutes later. When she opens the door, a small Asian woman is standing in the hallway. “Audrey, right?” says the woman. Audrey almost thinks, _how does this woman know me?_ but there’s only three thousand passengers. Everyone knows everyone, to a point. “Yeah. And you are?”

“Jinju. You probably don’t know me. I’m from Second Class, I work in the Drawers.” This woman—Jinju, Audrey will have to remember that—is not at all surprised by Melanie’s condition, as if she’s seen it before. “You’ve really gone and done it now, Mel,” she says, coming inside and closing the door behind her.

“Spare me, Jinju. I already got enough of that from Audrey here.” Melanie shakily pushes herself up to a sitting position. “Audrey, can you—”

“Yes, sorry. I’ll give you some privacy. Call me if you need anything.” Audrey enters the hallway for the second time in twenty minutes and looks out the window. She watches the dead cityscape as it passes by; frozen buildings, lampposts, sidewalks, cars, people. The sun peeks out from behind the hills, occasionally disappearing when a cloud covers it. The hallway smells stuffy and metallic this close to the engine. Even seven years after departure, Audrey still automatically thinks to open a window. There’s noise from the bunk room, but it’s not loud enough to hear what’s being said. Audrey hopes that Melanie’s trust in this Jinju wasn’t misplaced, but it sounds like they’re friends. She feels a little better that Melanie has someone she knows looking after her. Audrey wasn’t looking forward to potentially dragging her to the medical car.

The bunk room door slides open and Jinju nimbly steps through it. “That was quick,” Audrey says, turning around from her spot at the window. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s fine. I was actually expecting her to be more sick than that. When Melanie called me, I thought she might be on death’s door. She only calls in emergencies.”

Audrey feels mildly embarrassed for forcing Melanie to do that in the first place, but decides not to dwell on it. “Did she say anything?”

“Yes, she was telling me just now about how patient you were looking after her last night. It was all she could talk about.”

The idea that Melanie would consider it noteworthy enough to mention throws Audrey off. “It wasn’t much,” she says reflexively.

“It’s a big deal for her,” Jinju says. “It takes a long time for Melanie to trust anyone. She’s not used to being looked after. Or asking for help. I’m sure you know that already.”

The argument from last night comes back to Audrey. “Yeah, I could see that.”

“Just keep being patient, okay? Melanie’ll get there. She finds it hard, and, well…let’s just say the train has a way of making you self-reliant.” The sun comes out from a cloud, and Audrey notices with interest that there’s tiny flecks of green in Jinju’s eyes. “Tell me about it,” she says self-deprecatingly, though her heart breaks a little. “Will Melanie be okay?”

“Yes, of course. It’s just a chest infection. She’ll have to stay off work for the next few days, though. No arguing,” Jinju adds at Audrey’s expression. The train banks slightly, and they lean against the wall to compensate.

“Did Melanie agree to that?”

“She doesn’t have much choice. I’ll talk to some people. We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it, Audrey. Just focus on looking after Melanie, she’ll need it.” Jinju bids goodbye to her and leaves, assumedly to go back to her actual job. _I forgot to thank her,_ Audrey thinks. When she goes back in, the bunk room is much the same as she left it, with one change: there’s a tiny pile of medication boxes on the table near the bunk. Audrey waits just inside the door, relishing the silence. Until Melanie shifts, and says, “I know you’re watching me,” without opening her eyes.

“Where else is there to watch?” Audrey sits down on the bunk next to Melanie. It’s a squash, but they both fit. “How are you feeling now?”

“The meds haven’t kicked in yet. So I still feel like shit.” Melanie’s hand comes out from under the covers to take Audrey’s. She looks more relaxed than Audrey’s ever seen. “Thank you for asking. And for looking after me. I’m sorry for being difficult earlier.”

“It’s alright, baby. I’m just glad you’re going to be okay now.” The sun has come out again, dappling the blankets in its light. Audrey feels just a little bit hopeful, as if it came out with the rising sun.

“Audrey. Will you read to me?” Melanie sneezes explosively, and Audrey passes her a tissue. “Just until I fall asleep.”

Audrey is surprised by the nature of this request, but far be it from her to refuse. “Of course. I’ll read to you the whole day if you want.”

Melanie smiles in spite of herself. “There’s a book on the desk. I got two thirds of the way through it.” Audrey sifts through all the papers on the desk top to find it; a beat-up, dog-eared _Penguin Classics_ copy of _1984_. “Really? _1984_? Kind of depressing, don’t you think?”

“I like it. Don’t judge me. Just read from where the bookmark is. I remember what happened.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll read it.” Audrey sits on the bed at Melanie’s feet and opens the book. “ _It was as though the surface of the glass had been the arch of the sky, enclosing a tiny world with its atmosphere complete. He had the feeling he could get inside it, and that in fact he was inside it, along with the mahogany bed and the gate-leg table, and the clock and the steel engraving and the paperweight itself. The paperweight was the room he was in, and the coral was Julia’s life and his own, fixed in a sort of eternity at the heart of the crystal…_ ”

“I’m going to sleep,” Melanie mumbles, her eyes already closing. Unlike before, she drops off immediately, snoring gently.

“Go ahead,” Audrey says, closing the book and snuggling up next to her. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading 1984 while I was writing this fic and I came upon that line that Audrey reads, and I was like we gotta have it in there somewhere


End file.
